


Did you miss me?

by KendraPendragon



Series: My tumblr writing [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, happy end, obviously written before season 4, one of those fics where Jim comes back from the dead to burn the heart out of Sherlock, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraPendragon/pseuds/KendraPendragon
Summary: Jim comes back from the dead to finally make good on his threat: To burn the heart out of Sherlock Holmes.His destination is St. Barts.





	Did you miss me?

_Did you miss me?_

Molly stood frozen to the spot as she saw the oh so familiar face on the screen.  _His_  face. The face of a dead man.

_Did you miss me?_

He couldn’t be alive. He just couldn’t. There had been brain splattered on this very roof. His brain. He was dead!

He might have lived without a heart, but not even he could live without a brain!

_Did you miss me?_

Oh God, Sherlock! He was gone! Sent to Eastern Europe!   
Molly could still feel the heat of his passionate kiss on her lips when he had showed up in the middle of the night. It had been a parting kiss. One to say farewell.

“Goodbye, Molly Hooper”, he had whispered against her lips, her tears on his pale warm cheeks. Then he had whirled around and had fled before she had the time to say anything. He wouldn’t let her tell him that she loved him…

_Did you miss me?_

She had to call John! Mycroft! Anyone! Maybe Sherlock hadn’t boarded the plane yet! They needed Sherlock! He was the one Moriarty wanted!

“Did you miss me?”

Molly screamed and whirled around at the oh so familiar voice behind her…

 

**~oOo~**

 

“When will you finally make up your mind, Mycroft? Exile, no exile…it’s getting quite boring.”

Sherlock’s coat billowed in the light wind as he descended the stairs of the plane, looking down on Mycroft, John and Mary. It took him a second to notice their tense faces.

“Oh, come on. What could possibly be that terrifying?”

Without a word, Mycroft held his phone out to Sherlock. He raised a mocking eyebrow before he took it out of his hand.

He had to take a double-look.

“Impossible” did he mutter and brought the phone closer to his face to have a better look.

_Did you miss me?_

Moriarty! How the hell was that possible? He SAW him shooting himself! He SAW how the blood and bits of his brain poured out of his head and onto the roof of Bart’s!

_Did you miss me?_

But they were the same. If anyone could trick him, it would be the world’s only consulting criminal. Taking in consideration it really was him and they foolishly had faked their suicides at each other, then why did he come back now? Why now?   
Moriarty must think to have something to crush him for good this time. John.   
No, John was safe. Nothing was new about John, except for Mary.

Sherlock’s eyes flitted to her face for a second. She looked at him with worry and questions in her eyes.

  
No, he trusted Mary.

She had nothing to do with this.

  
Neither would she be a target. Moriarty was just as good as digging up dirt as Magnussen. He would know who she was. And he would know that she was very well capable of protecting herself.

The baby? Could it be his target? No, too soon. He would have waited until it was born, maybe kidnap it. But still in the womb it was useless to him.

What. Had. Changed?

_Did you miss me?_

Sherlock’s eyes looked into the distance, hurrying from side to side as he desperately searched for an answer. Every moment with Moriarty passed through his mind until a line echoed through his head. A promise, given a long time ago. The smell of chlorine. The sound of rippling water.

 

**_I will burn the heart out of you._ **

 

Sherlock gasped.

“Molly!”

 

**~oOo~**

 

“Stay away from me”, Molly hissed as she stumbled backwards against the table, rounding it while the one and only Moriarty came towards her, looking at her with a crooked grin.

He chuckled.

“That’s new. Wasn’t it you who couldn’t get close enough?”

She blushed and her hand felt around behind her back for something - anything - to use as a weapon.

“Sherlock is gone. He has left London this morning.”

God, her heart was beating so painfully hard. Her fingers only touched useless test-tubes and petri-dishes. If she only had acid or something standing around. Damn her sense for tyding up her workspace!

Molly gasped and took another step to the side when Moriarty did a little pounce forward, his hands burried deep into the pockets of his grey expensive suit. He laughed at her.

“Oh, Molly. I truly have missed you. Always good for a laugh. And daft beyond believe.”

Molly tightened her lips and bit back her snide reply. Do not anger the psychopath, she told herself.

“Sherlock is still here. In fact, he is on his way. Do you really think I haven’t timed my comeback? I love dramatic entries!”

He almost squealed with delight. Molly felt sick. There was so much Jim from IT in him at times. Then his face looked totally different. It was terrifying.

“Why can’t you just leave him alone?” Molly pressed through gritted teeth, glancing at the door. Just a little further. But she had to step away from the table and then there was nothing between them.

Moriarty shrugged. “Need a little bit of advertising. As it turns out, that whole affair wasn’t good for business. I need new clients.”

Molly shook her head in disbelief. She had reached the corner of the table. Jim tilted his head and grinned at her.

“Furthermore, I still have to live up to a promise.”

Molly bolted for the door. A massive chest in a black suit blocked the exit and grabbed her at her ponytail. She screamed as the tall, muscled man pulled her back into the room by tearing at her hair.

“Where are you going, love? We’re waiting for our special guest!”

 

_Sherlock!_

 

**~oOo~**

 

Mary glanced at Sherlock with worry. She had never seen him like this. Eyes wild. Breathing flat and fast. Posture tense and at the same time squirming in his seat. Hands balled into fists so hard the knuckles were white.

In an attempt to calm him down, Mary placed a hand on top of his.

“She will be all right, Sherlock. He will not harm her until you are there. You know that is what he wants. He wants to see you suffer. He won’t start without you.”

Sherlock’s head snapped around to her. His eyes roamed over her face. Mary’s heart cramped as she saw the desperation and fear she had felt a couple of months back when they had pulled John out of that stag fire.

“Do you have your gun?” he asked her all of a sudden, his voice sounding hoarse.

She shook her head.

“Doesn’t go with the baby belly.”

“John?”

“Sorry, no. Didn’t think I would have to shoot a dead man today.”

Sherlock turned his attention back to the window, following their route on his mental map of London. Ten more minutes.

 

_Molly…_

 

Feeling sick, he closed his eyes, resting his head on the rest of his seat.

It was his fault. One moment of weakness. One moment where he had given in to his urge to be with her, to look into her eyes. To hold her in his arms. Feel her. Smell her. Kiss her…  
He cursed himself for his sentiment, being unable to be sent to his death without saying goodbye to the woman he loved.

Moriarty must have watched him. He had only waited for this to happen. Of course he had. He himself had compared him to a spider, waiting patiently for its victims to get tangled in its web. And now, he had tangled himself once again. With the difference that this time there wasn’t a clever plot to save him and the ones he loved. This time, Sherlock had no net to save him from jumping to his death.

And he would jump. If it saved her, he would jump off that roof again without hesitation!

And Moriarty knew that…

 

**~oOo~**

 

“Has it been nice?” his cold voice chirped as he bent down to the kneeling Molly, her ponytail still in the merciless grip of his henchman.

“The kiss. After all those years building up sexual frustration, I was utterly surprised that you didn’t hump each other like monkeys until certain body parts were sore and raw.”

“How do you…?” Molly didn’t complete the sentence as it dawned on her. First, her face was shocked, then disgusted. Moriarty grinned.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. We just had audio in your flat. I am a gentleman, after all. But I must say, you’re quite loud during sex. That Tom-guy was one lucky bastard.”

Molly blushed again, shivering with disgust.

“Personally, I prefer silent women. A little ecnouragement is nice, of course, but generally…”

“Please. Just stop”, Molly said through gritted teeth and yelped as the henchman pulled roughly at her ponytail.

Moriarty chuckled, then his hand was on her face, gripping her chin, his nails digging painfully hard into her skin.

“Dearest one, I have only just begun. Just wait and see. Only three minutes left.”

 

**~oOo~**

 

The car was still rolling as Sherlock pushed open the door and jumped out, waisting no time.

There was only Molly on his mind right now. He had to save her.

_Molly_

_Molly_

_Molly_

did it echo through his head as he ran, his coat billowing behind him. His blood rushed through his ears and he could only hear his own ragged breathing as he slammed open the doors to St. Bart’s hospital.

Running, running and running through the hallways, pushing doors open as he made his way deeper into the heart of Bart’s, down to the labs.

His home away from home.

_Molly!_

 

**~oOo~**

 

He saw Moriarty first, waiting for him on the other side of the lab, hands in his pockets, grinning like the madman he was. Then he saw the henchman and his hand fisted in Molly’s soft brown hair and rage flared through him and he would have lunged at the man if it hadn’t been for the weapon.

The henchman pointed it at Molly’s head.

“Well, well, Sherlock. Is that a way to great an old friend?” Moriarty asked, highly amused by Sherlock’s expression.

“Let her go”, Sherlock demanded icily, his patience with this man having run out. His eyes were on her face, scanning her for any kind of wounds.

Molly had her eyes cast to the floor. 

“Oh, Sherlock. Do you still don’t know how to behave? You don’t demand things from the man with the gun - and I’m speaking metaphorically here, cause technically he has the gun, but you get the picture -, you ask him nicely.”

“Let. Her. Go!”

“Tsk tsk tsk”, Moriarty sighed, giving him his sad puppy look.

“Still so thick headed. Not listening to anyone. Always thinking you’re the best. Always thinking you will win…”

Moriarty gave a quick nod to his henchman and the man pulled back Molly’s head to slap her across the face with the back of his hand.

She yelped and Sherlock would have lunged at him this time if he hadn’t been held back by the familar grasp of his friend.

“Sherlock, no! This is what he wants! This is what he wants!”

Sherlock tried to tear off the strong arms that held him, but John clung to him like rubber.

“Think Sherlock! Think!” John tried to calm him down.

Then another nod from Moriarty. The sound of skin hitting skin.

  
A scream.

  
Sherlock’s scream.

  
“I will kill you!” he yelled at Moriarty, fighting to get free.

Moriarty’s laughter was like ice.

“Oh, please try. I would so love to see the look on your face when my dear friend here blows her brains out. Actually, I am kind of counting on that.”

His eyes were dark and cold as the night and Sherlock felt a hatred he had never felt before. They glared at each other for a long while, a threatening silence surrounding them.

Then, all of a sudden, the mad man’s head snapped up.

“You know what, why don’t we end this where it all started? Up to the roof I’d say. John, I’m afraid you’re not allowed to come. Sherlock.”

With another nod, Molly was roughly pulled to her feet. She whimpered and for the first time, she looked at Sherlock.

His heart cramped as he saw the fear and pain in her eyes, the traces of violence forming on her cheek. Tears were streaming down her face and it hurt him so much to see her like this that he couldn’t breathe.

This was only a moment, for Molly was whirled around and, yelping once more, she gripped the man’s hand with hers, digging her nails into his skin. He only growled and pulled at her hair once more, causing her to whimper. They stumbled out of the lab into the corridor and  for one second, Moriarty and Sherlock were face to face.

“I will make you pay for the pain you caused her”, Sherlock spat and Moriarty grinned.

“No, darling. I will break you by making you watch how I throw her off this bloody roof, knowing that it was your love that killed her.”

Sherlock’s nostrils flared and his hands balled into fists.

“Come now. We don’t want her to wait, do we?”

He strolled out of the lab, letting the door swing close behind him.

“Sherlock…”

“Go, John. Do as he says.”

Without another look, Sherlock followed Moriarty through the door.

 

**~oOo~**

 

They were standing in front of the elevator and Moriarty grinned as Sherlock was approaching them. Only Sherlock.

“Good boy”, he praised him loudly.

“Jim…”

Moriarty’s head snapped around as Molly’s weak voice called him.

Her doe eyes were big and glazed over, tears spilling out of them as they begged him.

“Please. Please don’t hurt him. I’ll do anything. Please, Jim.”

It was only a whisper, but Moriarty’s eyes flared up, burning her.

He opened his mouth to speak, but just then the bing echoed through the narrow hallway and the elevator doors slid open.

 

And the last thing Moriarty’s eyes would ever see was the orifice of the gun that shot a hole in his head.

 

**~oOo~**

 

Sherlock froze as the elevator doors opened and he saw Mycroft and Mary standing inside it, both a gun in their hands. He would never forget the look on his brother’s face when he shot Moriarty in the head. This amount of emotion would never cross his face again.

Mary had skillfully put a hole in the head of the henchman, right between the eyebrows, and he crashed to the floor, taking Molly with him.

That’s when Sherlock started running.

He fell to his knees the moment he had reached her and scooped her into his arms, uttering a sound of desperation. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and took a deep breath. He could feel her warmth and the blood pumping through her vein at his cheek and once again he fought for control.

Adrenaline was burning his veins and he crushed her chest against his, placing a hand on the back of her head as he showered her neck and her cheek with kisses until he found her lips.

With desperation he kissed her, way too hard. But he couldn’t stop himself. He had to feel her. He had to know that she was alive. He needed to let his emotions out or he would burst.

“Sherlock, please. I have no interest in watching this display of…relief.”

His brother’s disgusted voice managed to clear his head and broke this kiss.

Molly gasped for air  
   
Yet, he couldn’t let go of her, too afraid that she would disappear. So he cupped her face with shaking hands and looked her over, seeing a swelling form on her cheek, blood pouring out of two wounds on her cheekbone and her lips red and puffy from his hard kiss.

“I thought I lost you”, he breathed and rested his forehead against hers.

He knew he had lost control and fought to win it back, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to concentrate on Molly’s pulse rushing beneath his fingers.

 

_She is all right._

_  
She is all right…_

  
**~oOo~**  
  


The buzzing of the neon lamps and of some devices were the only sounds in the lab as Sherlock and Molly sat at the table. Being left alone by his friends and brother after everything had been taken care of (Mycroft would let the bodies disappear, they would spread the word that it just had been a spoof of some crazy Sherlock-fan and that would be the end of it), Sherlock dipped the sponge into the bowl of water and carefully dabbed wiped away the dried blood on Molly’s now purple swollen cheek. 

They hadn’t spoken the entire time, but he could see her big eyes looking at him as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

She winced when he rubbed a little harder to wipe away the last stain of blood and he carfefully stroked her jaw with his thumb before he put the sponge into the bowl of water. He looked down at it, watching his reflection dance in the water.

He didn’t recognize himself. The fear was still visible in his eyes. It was so hard to shake it off…

“I love you.”

Sherlock closed his eyes as he heard her say the words.

With her eyes she had told him countless of times.

So long had he ignored it, even though he knew.

Even though he felt the same.  
  


“You left before I had a chance to tell you this and after…I just wanted to say it…although you already know.”

Her voice was merely a whisper, turning into a sob. Sherlock’s jaw clenched and he looked down at her hands clasped in her lap.

They looked so small. Her skin so soft…

Sherlock reached down and took one of her hands. Closing his eyes, he placed it on his cheek, covering it with his own hand. He leaned into the touch, soaking up the warmth of her palm.

  
So soft…  
  


When he opened his eyes again, his vision was blurred. It took him a second to realize that tears were the reason, running down his pale cheeks in hot streams.

He blinked them away and looked at her, seeing the results of his love on her face.

He should let her go. Distance would protect her…

“Sherlock, please…”  
  


She saw it.

  
She saw every single one of those thoughts that crossed his mind, which would seperate them once again.

She placed her other hand on his cheek and pulled him to her.

“I couldn’t protect you”, Sherlock whispered and curled his long fingers around her small wrists.

Molly’s thumb caressed his cheek.

“If I…I can’t lose you, Molly.”

His voice sounded so scared.   
  


He was.

  
Molly rose from her seat and went to stand between his legs.

Even though logic dictated him to keep his distance, Sherlock’s arms wrapped around her; as if they had never done anything else. They pulled her close until her body was pressed flush against him and he could feel her hot breath on his face.

“I’m not strong enough…” he breathed and rested his forehead against hers once again.

Molly was still caressing his cheeks with her thumbs and he lost himself in her warmth, her sweet scent. She tried to stifle a sob, but failed and the noise shot through his heart. Her breath hit his lips and before he even realized, they found hers for a long and tender kiss.

 

Giving into his longing, he licked her lower lip, begging for entrance. She opened her mouth and answered his plead with her own tongue while she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him tightly.

With their bodies melted together and their kiss turning desperate, Sherlock realized how much he needed the woman in his arms. He also realized that he couldn’t go on pretending like he had for the past year, not after this torturing feeling of loss he had had to endure today. Neither could he keep away from her. He needed her as much as he needed cases. Maybe more.

 

She was the one that kept him safe.

She was the one that saw him.

 

She was the one that mattered the most.


End file.
